The history of peace research offers a window onto mid-twentieth-century European political thought in transformation. This chapter focuses on the transformation of peace research from the 1960s to the 1980s, as it evolved a radical and trans-national approach to politics, linking developmentalist concerns with decolonisation and economic underdevelopment at the global scale to a critique of social hierarchies at the national scale. Historically located both after the post-war pursuit of European peace through economic growth and regional integration and before the emergence of Euromissile peace movements of the 1980s, one strand of peace research soon became an approach to social justice all of its own, and came to be known as ‘positive peace’. Positive peace was most prominent in the Nordic countries, where it offered a means of connecting nationally framed accounts of social democracy to more radical and utopian calls for social justice on all political scales. During these years of international encroachment and domestic upheaval in Europe, positive visions for peace provided a space within which European intellectuals responded to newly recognised global-scale injustices such as the Vietnam War and the spectre of global famine, as well as building a more just social order at home.

Southern European Fascist regimes claimed to be ruled by a higher concept of ‘social justice’. While the propagandistic nature of this claim is clear, this chapter argues that behind it lies a coherent (if at times paradoxical) ideal that directed the action of states and institutions. Drawing on the cases of Italy and Portugal, this chapter charts the roots of fascist ‘social justice’ and how it reflected a core set of ideas about the relationship between the individual and the state where hierarchy and the primacy of the nation shaped a deeply anti-egalitarian idea of justice.

Shifting conceptions of social justice were intricately entangled with changing conceptions of the market in the late nineteenth and twentieth centuries. Understanding this interwoven history requires an analysis of the anthropological, moral, social, and political implications constructions of a market order. This observation is the starting point for a sketch of three distinctive periods in Western European history of entanglements between conceptions of social justice and understandings of the market. In the first period, defined by the social question, a notion of property as entitlements to social security created the social basis for the recognition of political agency and the empowerment of precarious workers. In a second period, notions of social justice centred on the creation and maintenance of a productive workforce, with sufficient spending power to contribute to the efficiency of markets and the growth of national wealth. The third period was characterised by an understanding of social justice as a disturbance of the price mechanism resulting from the capture of the state by self-interested professionals and interest groups. Social justice is not an alternative to a market morality; they together contribute to shifting entanglements of ‘socially’ informed markets and ‘market’ informed constellations of social justice.

This chapter explores two competing Catholic conceptions of social justice. The first strand of Catholic social justice, rooted in Pope Leo XIII’s 1891 encyclical Rerum Novarum and subsequent papal interventions, promoted a social order based upon traditional familial structures. This ‘organicist’ ideal of social justice originally aimed at combatting Marxism, the ills of industrialization, and the erosion of the Church’s influence in European public life. Although the Vatican-endorsed model of social justice predominated within the Church, not all Catholics embraced the anti-Communism and emphasis on the patriarchal family that ‘organicist’ social justice ideas promoted. The second, more decentralised strand of Catholic social justice – the ‘radical’ model – sprang from disagreements within the Church on how to respond to socialism, workers’ rights, dechristianisation, and decolonisation. ‘Radical’ social justice enjoyed support from grassroots activists, theologians, reformers, and other Church leaders who endeavoured to empower the powerless in their societies and, from the 1950s and 1960s, around the world. Both strands of social justice upend conventional distinctions between the political left and right, while also bridging the national and the transnational. By problematizing the political and spatial categories commonly used to discuss social justice, this chapter offers a useful corrective to existing social-justice narratives.

The central theme of this chapter is the 1909 naval scare, sometimes known as the acceleration crisis. At the very moment at which Captain Herbert Heath arrived in Berlin, news began to break that the German Navy was secretly ordering its capital ships ahead of the published schedule [66, 67]. The strong suspicion this created was that the Reich leadership was undertaking a covert attempt to match or even overtake the Royal Navy in the number of its Dreadnought battleships. Heath reported extensively on this apparent ‘acceleration’, incurring in the process the wrath of Admiral Tirpitz, who blamed him for what he considered ‘false’ statements made by British ministers in Parliament on the German shipbuilding programme. In consequence, Heath was gradually ostracized by the German naval authorities, a process that he much resented [90]. However, far from cowing the attaché, Tirpitz's actions made Heath even more certain that his deductions about German shipbuilding were correct and he continued to report in this vein. In the end relations between Heath and the German government became so strained that virtually all facilities were denied to him. Heath left his post for a sea-going command in 1910, a mere two years into his (nominally three-year) appointment.

58. Herbert Heath, Germany N.A. Report 38/08

Berlin, 13 August 1908

Visit to Danzig

I have the honour to submit the following report of my visit to Danzig on Tuesday last.

I called on Rear Adml Schimmelman [sic] in command of the Imperial Dockyard at 10 A.M. The Admiral was very cordial in his welcome but the interview was short and the Flag Captain then took me over the dockyard. The average number of workmen employed is [2000?], the work consisting of repairs and completion of vessels up to 3rd class cruisers, there are also older vessels of a larger class in reserve.

The Ersatz Pfeil was alongside but lying very light in the water; she is due for completion by the end of this year.

My guide informed me that he was not allowed to speak about German submarines.

After lunch I went down the river in a ‘penny steamer’ accompanied by a local Englishman, but an inspection of the yards from this position did not reveal anything of importance except that Schichau appear to have completed a new large ship.

This chapter commences with an illustration of the tensions that were beginning to bedevil Anglo-German relations. The farewell audience of the out-going naval attaché, Captain Reginald Allenby, was used by the Kaiser as a platform for expounding his manifold complaints about British policy [1]. It was into this chill that Commander (later Captain) Philip Dumas arrived as the new representative of the Royal Navy. The chapter follows his experiences, drawing especially upon his growing perception of an intense German Anglophobia [4, 14, 15, 31]. It also heralds an issue that will be of some prominence later, namely the invasion question [22]. However, Dumas's main concern upon his arrival was to investigate Germany's ability to build major warships. To this end he conducted an extensive tour of the German coasts, visiting and reporting upon various ship yards and harbours in the process [8, 9, 12, 18]. He also went to see several armaments manufacturers, including Krupp's of Essen [17]. The result of all these inspections was an important despatch outlining in great detail Germany's ability to construct large numbers of naval vessels of all types with considerable rapidity [19]. Following this, in early 1907, came a long memorandum in which Dumas examined the question of the best strategy to adopt in the event of an Anglo-German war. The attaché proposed as the most effective course a rigorous assault on German commerce through a distant blockade that would prevent both German and neutral vessels reaching the Reich [24]. Such a course, it may be noted, would be adopted in the First World War.

1. Reginald Allenby, Germany N.A. Report 2/06

Berlin, 16 January 1906

Anglo-German Relations

I had the honour of being this day received in farewell audience by His Majesty the Emperor. I beg to submit the following account of the conversation which ensued.

His Majesty's manner was extremely cordial, although he was just recovering from a severe attack of influenza. He gave me the impression of being much in earnest when referring to the question of the relations between England and Germany, and appeared to keenly feel and resent the imputations in the press and elsewhere under which he suffered. His manner was very forcible when denying the right of England to interfere between Germany and France, and he inferred that his motives were of the most pacific nature.

Weekly Miscellany, No. XXVII (27). Saturday, June 16, 1733

I hope I shall be excus’d for postponing several excellent Letters, while I entertain my Readers with a pleasant one from a young Lady. As it is the first which have received from the Sex, I could do no less than give it a Preference, tho’ some may be of Opinion that I should have consulted my own Credit better by not publishing it at all. If the Lady intended it only as a private Admonition, she should have given me some Intimation of her Meaning, but as it came without any Injunction of Secrecy, I thought myself at Liberty to make my own Use of it. The Ingenuity of it, I dare say, will make it agreeable to the Publick; and the good Humour of it cannot fail of making it inoffensive to the old Lady and the Curate who, next to myself, are most affected by the seeming Severity of her Banter. I shall give it exactly as it came to me.

To Richard Hooker, Esq;

SIR,

I cannot say that I am ever a Reader, or often an Admirer, but it is my Misfortune that I am always a Hearer, of your Miscellany. I live with an old Maiden Aunt, who mightily likes the Piety of your Design, and the Gravity of your Performances. She longs for the coming in of the Post with as much Impatience as I should expect a Letter from my Lover. As soon as the Letter-Carrier knocks at the Door (which is generally in the Evening) the Candles, the Curate, and Miss are call’d for in great haste. When the good old Gentlewoman has properly placed a little Instrument to her Ear, and the Reverend Gentleman has fixed another upon his Nose, your dry Discourse is bawled out with a Voice as loud as would reach the largest Church in your City, and in a Tone as canting as any that was in Fashion in the Times of old Noll.1 If any Part be duller; I ask your Pardon, good Sir, I mean graver, than ordinary, it is sure to strike their Want of Fancy, and we must needs have it over again.

During the first two decades of his printing career, Richardson was associated with seven journals: The True Briton (1723–1724), The Plain Dealer (1724–1725), The Daily Journal (1721–1737), The Prompter (1734–1736), The Daily Gazetteer (1735–1746), The Weekly Miscellany (1733–36), and The Citizen (1739). Years before the appearance of his first work of fiction, he was already known among his fellow printers for being a gifted writer. In the January 1736 issue of the Gentleman's Magazine (p. 51), Edward Cave, the editor, observed that Richardson had “often agreeably entertain’d with Elegant Disquisitions in Prose.” Among these anonymous works were likely pieces contributed to some of these journals as well as such pamphlets as The Infidel Convicted (1731), The Oxford Methodists (1733), The Apprentice's Vade Mecum (1734), and the Seasonable Examination of the Pleas and Pretensions of the Proprietors of, and Subscribers to, Play-Houses, Erected in Defiance of the Royal License (1735).

Since anonymous publication in this period was a closely guarded secret between writers and printers, the inquisitive reader today has few opportunities to establish authorship beyond a reasonable doubt. The only recorded attribution by early commentators to identify Richardson's anonymous contributions, one to the True Briton, is found in John Nichols's Literary Anecdotes, where in a footnote he states that “it seems highly probable that the sixth [No. 6 (June 21, 1723)] was written by himself as it is much in his manner.” Although earlier Richardson scholars have dismissed this attribution, after a more thorough examination of this journal, I found grounds for suspecting that this and at least 11 other issues owe something to this printer. In any case, the political themes in letters signed A.B. in True Briton No. 9 (July 1, 1713); No. 19 (August 19, 1723); No. 24 (August 23, 1723); and No. 25 (August 26, 1723) are closely connected and appear to be written by the same person. As I will argue, the five letters in this journal signed with women's names also appear to be written by the same person, and most likely Richardson.

The departure of Heath from Berlin was an opportunity for the new naval attaché to rebuild relations between the two navies. Captain Hugh Watson, the suave, urbane and sociable individual who took up his post in August 1910, attempted to do just this, holding out the prospect of an Anglo-German agreement on the exchange of naval information to all the senior officers and officials that he met [106, 110, 111, 112]. In doing so, his enthusiasm outran his discretion and he was ultimately reprimanded by the Foreign Office and disowned by the Admiralty for his pains in interfering in a ‘political’ matter. Subsequent to the breakdown of these well-intentioned efforts to promote an Anglo- German agreement on the exchange of naval information, Watson reassessed his attitude towards the German leadership. In particular, one can see Watson's growing suspicions concerning Admiral Tirpitz, the German naval authorities and the coterie he termed ‘the Large Navy Party’ [126]. Another theme that emerges from Watson's reports at this time concerns the development of German air power. Beginning in late 1911, he and his military colleague, Lieutenant-Colonel the Hon. Alexander ‘Alick’ Russell, embarked upon an extensive campaign to raise awareness of German technical progress in the field of dirigible airships [140, 143, 147]. It was a point that they would raise with growing frequency in later years, as we shall see in subsequent chapters.

106. Hugh Watson, Germany N.A. No.31/10

Berlin, 25 August 1910

A Conversation with Admiral von Tirpitz

I have the honour to report an interview I had yesterday with his Excellency Admiral von Tirpitz.

With reference to the notes I handed to his Excellency, those contained in No.2 I was authorised by the First Lord of the Admiralty to put before Admiral von Tirpitz.

Those in No.3, the Director of Naval Intelligence suggested that I could put them forward as views of British Admiralty to Admiral von Tirpitz should opportunity arise.

[Enclosure]

106a. Precis of Conversation held with his Excellency Admiral von Tirpitz by Captain Hugh D. R. Watson, Royal Navy

Berlin, 24 August 1910

His Excellency was only making a brief stay in Berlin on his way from his home to Dantzig [sic] to attend the combined Naval and Military parade there before His Majesty the Kaiser.

Following the Second Moroccan Crisis, the German Government introduced a new amendment (a ‘Novelle’) to the Naval Law, greatly expanding the size, preparedness and fighting power of their fleet. This chapter follows the passage of this legislation through the Reichstag and contains Watson's analysis of the intent behind this measure. As the opening document makes clear, he was convinced that the bill was motivated by hostile feelings towards Britain. He also outlined his view that, while this increase in the German navy could not be stopped, a firm response by Britain would prevent further such increases [148]. He would continue to make this point in many instances thereafter. A further recurring issue in this period was Watson's perception that the German naval bill was being promoted by an active propaganda effort that sought to win the public by besmirching Britain. This propaganda Watson traced to Tirpitz and the news bureau of the Reichsmarineamt [157, 169], a fact that further reinforced his suspicions of the Admiral and his methods.

148. Hugh Watson, Germany N.A. No.5/12

Berlin, 8 February 1912

The German Naval Estimates, Increases and General Trend of Opinion

I have the honour to submit to your notice that in the speech delivered yesterday, opening the Reichstag, His Majesty the Emperor spoke of a strengthening of the naval and military defences of the German Empire.

No details of increases were given, and at the present moment there is no official pronouncement on the subject.

The following are, however, the heads under which the press prophesy the increases are to be placed:–

• (a.) Formation of a third battle squadron of eight ships, to be kept permanently in commission (reported on in my letter No.2 of the 26th January last).

• (b.) Addition of one armoured ship per annum to the present shipbuilding programme of the Fleet Law, and therefore in addition to the shipbuilding programme as contained in the summary of the naval estimates of 1912, published in the North German Gazette immediately before last Christmas. Another proposal urges the building of an additional armoured vessel every alternate year.

• (c.) Increase in number of submarines.

• (d.) Formation of a school squadron for torpedo-boat destroyers.

The Emergence and Consequences of the Anglo-German Naval Rivalry

Unbeknown to most people at the time, the year 1897 marked a turning point in Anglo-German relations. In June of that year a ministerial reshuffle in the German government led to the appointment of new set of officials dedicated to revolutionising the Reich's place in the world. Unwilling to accept Bismarck's dictum that Germany was a ‘saturated’ European power with no further desires for expansion, they sought instead to transform their country into a ‘World Power’ (Weltmacht) capable of challenging the three global super-states, ‘Greater Britain, Continental Russia and Pan-America’.

Most prominent of the new appointees was the new Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs and future Reich Chancellor Bernhard von Bülow. His avowed goal, articulated in the slogan Weltpolitik (‘world policy’), was to embark upon a new and dramatic foreign policy designed to ensure that Germany attained her ‘place in the sun’. Although it was never Bülow's intention to antagonise Britain, his method of implementing Weltpolitik – involving Germany ostentatiously in any global problems that arose anywhere in the world – would nevertheless ultimately arouse suspicions in London as to Germany's hostile intent. However, the probability is that very little would have come of these suspicions were it not for the actions of another of the new appointees, Admiral Alfred Tirpitz, the new Secretary of State at the Imperial Naval Office (Reichsmarineamt).

If Bülow was the most prominent of the new appointees, Tirpitz was certainly the most important of them, at least in so far as Anglo-German relations were concerned. The reason for this was that Tirpitz came to office with a very particular agenda in mind. Viewing the United Kingdom as Germany's ‘most dangerous naval enemy’ and the one against whom Germany most urgently needed ‘a certain measure of naval force as a political power factor’, he concluded that German naval expansion should be directed against Britain. As he put it: ‘the military situation against England demands battleships in as great a number as possible’. As a result of this thinking, he set out to transform Germany's naval position. In place of the existing meagre force of coastal defence ships and small cruisers, he sought to build a battle fleet capable of confronting the Royal Navy in the North Sea.